c'mon i guess
the eye turns west
riding the falling hand
of the clock
how now how now
hey hey my my
beneath the glass
this human butterfly
life's daily grey
my my hey hey
the sleep of years
beneath the burning clock
fie on’t ah fie
hey hey my my
got lost midway
between the hook and eye
///
i take those old records off the shelf
sit and listen to them by myself
can burning teach broken hand to know
its blessed way along the broken road
i'm going down
get hung about
see carriage wheels turn in central park
i found myself within a forest dark
what's left for this broken mind to hate
in jungle room waiting for the king